History of Us: Sweet Delusions 2 Quantum Suicide
by ajremix
Summary: History of Us Arc, after Be Not Proud. Dream your worlds of 'maybe's and 'what if's. In the end there will only be one reality. Crystal


Sweet Delusion 2   
Quantum Suicide   
By: Lady Virgo  
  
Schrodinger stated that by placing a cat in a sealed box with an apparatus containing a radioactive nucleus with a 50% chance of deteriorating and releasing a vial of poisonous gas, the cat would exist in two separate states. Should the nucleus decay, the cat will die. If it does not, the cat will live. Until the box is opened and the cat is observed to be alive or dead, it will continue to occupy both states simultaneously.  
According to the Everett many-world interpretation the cat observes its own state of existence which would split off into separate world each minute spent in the box: a world where it lives and a world where it dies. In the worlds where it dies it would cease to exist whereas the cat in the worlds where it continues to exist observes that it never seems to die.

* * *

"Sir, we're picking up something strange."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"From a part of the ruined fortress. We're picking up multiple bioroid signals."  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Four. No.... six. It keeps growing, sir."  
  
"What?"  
  
"All of them are reading the same. It's like the same bioroid is being copied."  
  
"What Robot Master can do that?"  
  
"Well, Gemini could do something similar, but not so many at once. And it's already been destroyed."  
  
"All right. Send in a strike team. Find and detain the source."  
  
"Yessir."

* * *

You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to better human life. You were built into servitude, to enrich living with your skills in the occult and knowledge in science. You spend your time researching and learning and you mix your knowledge. You realize the truth of numbers and you find you don't just enrich humans' lives, but also those of your brethren. With your findings you write research papers, read and revered throughout the world. The other robots admire you for your intelligence. The humans admire you for the viewpoints you've brought to their attention. Your creator adores you for your intelligence and the grand steps you have built to help humans realize his true intentions.  
  
No.  
  
Go back.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to serve your creator, your master. You help to maintain the health of your brethren, to keep them working properly for when they are to be used again. They appreciate that you look after them. Your creator appreciates that you take care of things when he's too busy to. You don't mind because it's what you were created to do, but you like it nonetheless. After all, you are needed.  
  
No.  
  
Back, go back.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to serve your creator, your master. He's far too busy with his own works to even notice any of his previous creations. You work because there is nothing else to do. Because you hope that one day you will be useful again. One day you notice sudden disappearances of some of your brethren. No one else seems to care too much, but you worry. Confining in selected others, you decided to go out and live among the humans where you stay peacefully and the humans- not knowing your true natures –are happy to have you.  
  
No, go back.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to serve your creator, your master. But as time went, you've come realize that there's more to life. Your brethren needed you, you became more than just a machine created to destroy. You found a purpose and with it you found you had the ability to want and found that you wanted to live peacefully. So you told your creator this and after much debating he allowed you to go off on your own to live this quiet life with others who wished only to be left alone-  
  
No.  
  
No, BACK.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to serve your creator, your master. He created you to battle the only creature with hopes of opposing your creator's dream. You fight and you defeat him and your creator rewards you. Once the world is under him, he gives you a section to control and those that came before you now work under you and-  
  
No.  
  
Just.....back.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to die for your creator, your master. He created you to battle the only creature with hopes of opposing your creator's dream. You fight and you lose and when you're asked why you're doing this you tell him that all you wanted was to live quietly somewhere and watch as time slipped by. Moved by your words he let you live, slipping away into the wilderness-  
  
No.  
  
NO, dammit.  
  
You are a synthetic being. A bioroid, a robot whose sole purpose is to die for your creator, your master. No one cares for you, not your brethren, not the humans outside, not your creator. Every day is hell for you, forsaken and used and beaten. All your life all you've ever wanted was to live peacefully. So why can't anyone respect that?  
  
For you are a synthetic being. You have no emotions that weren't constructed, you have no will that wasn't created in a lab. There is no part of you that belongs to yourself. You were created by your master and everything, your body, your mind, your 'emotions' all belong to him. So when you were activated, you felt obligated to repay your existence. When you were reconstructed, you felt obligated to repay your rebirth. When you were suddenly filled with an inexplicable anger and rage that could only be consumed with violence, you felt obligated to turn this sudden power that had to have been given to you by your master (because he had given you everything) upon the people that hated him and you and your brethren. And when the lab you stood in began to malfunction and everything began to fall apart and you were left trapped, uncertain if your death would be sudden or if you would still continue to survive, all you had was this single thought:  
  
I wish I never was.

* * *

"The signals are disappearing."  
  
"/We've located the source of the signals./"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"/It was a flux in DWN 40's systems. With all the high-density energy based equipment, its probability core coupled with its distortion field was running rampant./"  
  
"DWN 40? That's Crystal, isn't it? What happened to the other signals?"  
  
"/The cat is dead./"


End file.
